


Red and Gold

by Drenagon



Series: Lessons Well Learnt [12]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crack, Complete, Crack, F/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2015-04-23
Packaged: 2018-03-25 10:34:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3807145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drenagon/pseuds/Drenagon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone has had quite enough of Bofur's blindness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red and Gold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ISeeFire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ISeeFire/gifts).



> Please note the two separate mentions of crack in the tags! Some time ago it was ISeeFire's birthday. At the time she was somewhat annoyed with my Bofur. This was the result. It is not meant to fit within the normal timeline of Remember.

Red and Gold

‘You brought this on yourself, you know,’ Bofur heard as he tried desperately to work out where he was. The last thing he remembered was being in Edoras and the serving-wench who had blushed so charmingly when he teased and flirted with her. Why he was no longer there he did not know. Had he drunk so much he had blacked out? It had been known to happen, of course, but not on anything so weak as mannish ale. 

Except that one time. That one, extremely humiliating time that had ended with his clothing missing and replaced by that of his companion for the night. Had it not been for Bifur’s roars of laughter at Bofur’s attire, he would have been far more irritated by the loss of his first hat. As it was, he had forced Bifur to swear they would never mention it again. Thankfully his cousin was a dwarf of his word.

Anyway, all of that was beside the point. If he had drunk himself into unconsciousness his head would be thumping like the diamond hammers of the great forges. Clearly this was nothing to do with ale. 

‘Ah, so you finally start to catch on, do you?’ the stranger said. Bofur forced himself upright and looked around but he could see no one there. Or could he? That shadow, over there, was it moving? He crouched down and touched the floor, but even his impeccable eyesight and fine-tuned stone sense could not tell him for certain. Where was he that there was no stone to touch?

‘Do you have any idea how lucky you have been, child of stone?’ the stranger asked then. ‘Do you have any idea how few of your people get another One given to them when the first is lost?’

‘Another One?’ Bofur said involuntarily. ‘There’s no such thing. Otherwise the first wouldn’t be your One.’

‘Oh, and you know all about it, do you?’ the voice scolded mildly. ‘Well-versed in all the vagaries of fate, are we?’

‘ _We_ might well be,’ Bofur said, his normally boundless patience beginning to wear thin. ‘Given that I don’t know who you are, I could not say what you know or don’t.’

‘Well, let me tell you what I do know, then, Master Bofur,’ the shadowy figure snapped back. ‘I know that you were, for reasons I can no longer comprehend, offered a chance to have that which your people hold as sacred above all things. Another person made for you, who would love you more than all the world. I also know that you have, with all the sense of a mad goblin, managed to waste nearly twenty years of that person’s lifespan twiddling your thumbs and flirting with serving girls rather than opening your eyes and seeing what is right in front of you. Finally, I know that there is one in the universe who has had more than enough of your idiocy. So, I repeat, you brought this entirely upon yourself. You ought to have known better than to annoy her.’

‘Brought _what_ upon myse…’ Bofur started to ask. The end of the sentence was the most pathetic, girlish scream he had ever uttered or even heard uttered.

Suddenly before him stood a creature of nightmares. A very familiar creature.

‘It’s not possible,’ Bofur said to himself shrilly. ‘He’s dead. He’s supposed to be dead!’

Smaug, bane of the dwarves of Erebor, cared little for what was possible or what he was supposed to do or be. Revived from death and faced with a dwarf, a horrible little ant which stood where his beautiful gold should be, he did what any good dragon would do.

He made sure the dwarf brightened up the landscape. After all, if you could not have gold, red was the next best thing…

******

 


End file.
